


House Hunters Supernatural

by Peapods



Series: The Fire Thief [7]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peapods/pseuds/Peapods
Summary: When Albert and Cooper move to D.C, they hunt to find the perfect condo and manage to find it.There's just one problem.





	House Hunters Supernatural

They accept the promotions with little fanfare, footnotes in the Post article about the restructuring of the FBI. Dale is offered head of the Criminal Investigative Division. Albert is offered head of the Laboratory Division. Technically, Albert now outranks Dale, but he knows that will change soon. The head of the Criminal Services Branch is a old fogey with old fashioned ways. Dale, while vintage G-Man, also recognizes the need to change with the times.

The Washington Square apartment goes up for sale on a Wednesday and has a contract on it by Friday. They haven’t even found a place in DC yet and the prices of anything from an Adams-Morgan one bedroom shithole to an Arlington townhouse basically make Albert want to choke. Dale reminds him that they will be making far larger salaries and will eventually need to move to a spot where it’s not an onerous commute for one or both of them once the new lab in Quantico opens up.

Diane, who has her shit far more together, finds them an exorbitantly overpriced furnished one bedroom near Dupont Circle that will do month to month while they figure out how to be adults and everything happens very quickly after that. Only two weeks after their official promotion, they’re getting tours of the J. Edgar Hoover building and the current construction for the new labs at Quantico. 

“They’re still time to make changes, Director,” the special agent tells Albert as they pore over the plans. 

“So long as it’s clean and not staffed with complete incompetents, I’m sure this’ll be fine.”

Dale doesn’t get the fanciest office ever, but at the very least he doesn’t have to share it with a hard of hearing supervisor or even Diane. She sets up shop like a border cross agent, placing herself almost directly between the office entry and Cooper’s door.

Albert gets her a flask that says “Male Tears” on it as a gag gift, but she leaves it just to the right of her nameplate for years.

*****

House-hunting should be consigned to the depths of Hell, Albert decides. Correction: house-hunting with Dale Zen Master Cooper should be consigned to the depths of Hell. 

One place, they agree, is far too small. The kitchen can literally only fit an efficiency stove and the bathroom only has a stand up stall. This is the last time they agree on a place for at least eight more viewings.

One has bad feng shui. Cooper nixes it

One has concrete floors under shag carpet. Albert emphatically states he won’t be installing hardwood or new carpet in a place that can only boast “not in Manassas” as a selling point.

One condo they almost agree on sits on a lake. Cooper balks when he’s told he can’t take his kayak out on it. Albert counters by reminding him that he doesn't have a kayak, but Dale insists that it's the principle of the thing.

“Maybe you can tell me what it is you _do_ want,” the real estate agent finally snaps. “So far I’ve gotten ‘a stove, good feng shui, and a lax HOA’.”

They buckle down then and start picking out neighborhoods, mapping routes, and yes, looking for HOAs that don’t make Albert want to shove paperclips up his fingernails.

“Franconia,” Albert challenges the agent. “Balcony or large windows, preferably both. Kitchen with counters that can hold more than a Mr. Coffee and a knife block. Bathtub.”

She scribbles all this down and then tells them to get the hell out while she does research. A week later, she’s practically doing double the speed limit out of Alexandria to show them two places.

“Alright, both have balconies, both have tubs, both have decent kitchens, but I’m going to need you two to walk around them.”

The first is nearly perfect. It’s surrounded by trees, which Dale likes, and has new granite countertops and stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, which Albert likes.

Then they see the bedrooms are tiny. This place has no master bedroom. It was meant to be a companion condo. Two full bedrooms, two full baths. The bedrooms are _tiny_. The beds the place has been displayed with leave barely any room.

They share a look. They haven’t been precisely _hiding_ their relationship from their agent, but with their jobs and the times being what they are, they haven’t exactly been up front either.

Albert is trying to find a flaw beyond that and failing. They’ve gushed--well they’ve been vaguely complimentary instead of relentlessly negative--about the place too much to bitch about the bedrooms. They're a good size for two single bachelors looking to share rent.

“I was a little hesitant to show you this one as there’s no actual master bedroom,” she tells them, “But it’s a good contrast to the other place which does. The other place is a two floor arrangement however, and I wasn’t sure how you felt about that.”

Albert breathes out in something like relief, “Yeah, these are a bit on the small side. I think we’d prefer a master set up.”

She nods along and begins leading them out of the house. “The other place has a multi-sided fireplace and a balcony, though it doesn’t have quite as pretty a view. I think the kitchen is much more a chef’s kitchen though.”

In the car, Dale grins, “Sometimes, my dear Albert, people surprise you.”

The next condo is as she described and more to the point, perfect.

*****

The condo is haunted. Albert is sure of it. There is no other explanation for the stove breaking, the plumbing springing no less than 6 different leaks, and Dale’s sudden and inexplicable obsession with facial topiary.

“Is your razor broken?” Alberts asks snarkily the first night he notices Dale’s 5 o’clock shadow is more like a 2 day hangover.

“I am attempting to grow facial hair,” Dale answers.

Albert pointedly stops chopping onions and stares at the back of his partner’s head, but the other man doesn’t seem to notice the full weight of his disgust.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I feel it gives me an air of authority.”

Albert would have said “child molester,” himself. He’ll allow it for now. He’s not sure what structure this monstrosity will take. Maybe Dale will surprise him.

The stove and the plumbing take a nice chunk out of their savings, but now Albert has a professional hood and gas stove and the hot water takes less than a second to kick in.

Then a tree falls through their living room windows.

“We’re fucking cursed,” Albert growls as he brandishes a broom at a particularly irate blue jay.

“There was storm, Albert,” Dale says calmly as he stares down a hissing possum.

They haven’t had new windows for two weeks before the drafts start. Albert swears up and down that it’s the latest technology, but Dale is still on his hands and knees looking for any gap between the windows and the walls. Albert drinks deeply from his wine glass.

Two days and $40 worth of window insulation later, Dale sits across from Albert at the island and says, “I think we have ghosts.”

Albert doesn’t even look up from the crossword, “Ghosts don’t exist.”

“We can’t say that for certain after all we’ve seen.”

“Coop, I love you, but I refuse to believe that a 1990’s condo in Franconia is haunted. You think Sonny is bumming around in a place like this when he could be haunting Cher in sunny Malibu? Think Hoover’s ghost followed you home and is upset neither of us have a fetish for lady’s underwear?”

There’s no response and Albert makes sure his eyebrows are raised in abject skepticism when he turns to meet Dale’s disapproving gaze. The other man should know by now that it has no effect on Albert.

“There have been unquestionably odd occurrences in our home since we moved in-”

“The joys of home ownership,” Albert interjects.

“-and it would behoove us to investigate all possible avenues to determine the source of our troubles.”

“Rotten luck and a shitty inspector, Coop, not ghosts.”

*****

They’ve got ghosts. Fucking hell.

Not even a week after Dale’s insane theory was put before the court, Albert comes home to find all his knives embedded into the cabinetry. He looks at it for a moment and then pours himself three fingers of scotch and turns on Jeopardy. When Dale makes it home, he’s almost three-sheets and simply waves his partner toward the kitchen.

“Huh,” Dale comments.

“We got ghosts,” Albert replies.

Dale shaves off the facial hair.

*****

Dale plays Tibetan singing bowl music for hours on end, trying to cleans the house of “bad energy.” Albert calls up Dale’s step-mother, Shamrock, and takes her advice to smudge honest-to-God sage. 

( _“She’s my father’s wife, Albert, stop calling her that.”_ Albert won’t because he gets a cheap thrill every time Dale shows his clear distaste for the woman. Albert, having tasted her lemon bars, thinks he’s suffering from Cinderella Syndrome.) 

He then makes a roasted pork loin with fennel and sage that earns him a blow job that night.

The next morning, all the leaves on the formerly healthy ficus have fallen off. Albert has a suspicion.

“Coop, I think our ghost may be some puritanical preacher type.”

Dale, in a brand new role reversal, looks at Albert like he’s crazy, “On what do you base that frankly bizarre assessment.”

“Every time we have sex, or do anything remotely sexual, this ghostie loses his goddamn mind and embeds heirloom knives into brand new cabinetry.”

He sees the wheels turn in Dale’s head and notes the exact moment his memory catches up. “Albert, your mind astonishes me. That you would be open enough to accept the possibility of some kind of spectral energy affecting our daily lives was surprising enough. Your theory is sound and matches up to the events almost precisely.”

Albert opens his mouth to comment on the patronizing arc of that statement, but is stopped cold by Dale’’s next sentence.

“But we’re not going to stop having sex.”

Albert is sure he gapes for a moment, “Well, that’s real reassuring, Coop, but right now I’m a little more concerned that next time he’s going to bludgeon one of us with one of our guns mid-coitus.”

“Indeed. Perhaps we ought to try and contact our resident ghoul and ask why he objects to human copulation.”

It speaks to halt of thought in Albert’s mind that he doesn’t pick Dale up on his use of the word “copulate.” Instead, he says, “Come again?”

“Paranormal investigators have had some success reaching out to-”

“With what, a ouija board? I’m not going to be tied to a bed like Linda Blair just ‘cause you think Father Mc-Hates-to-Fuck has some deep seeded issues he needs to work out.”

“Do you suggest we try and find the equivalent of the Ghostbusters?”

Albert would have bet those heirloom knives that Dale hadn’t even _heard_ of Ghostbusters, much less been able to use the reference correctly in a sentence. He blasts out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, let’s just… go to work and finish this later. I can’t go conduct scientific experiments while having a crisis about the supernatural.”

Dale’s mouth goes flat and disapproving, but he doesn’t argue. They get dressed in silence and Albert glares accusingly at the bottle of lube on the nightstand. 

*****

When Albert opens their front door that evening, he hears voices and prays that they haven’t graduated to EVPs. 

(He’s never, ever going to forgive this ghost for making him learn these terms.)

“... my partner put it together this morning that our sexual encounters coincided with much of the activity in the house.” 

“That’s pretty specific and actually gives us a lot to work with as far as communicating with the ghost,” says an enthusiastic voice. 

“Don’t look at me, I think this is all bullshit,” says another more laconic voice.

“Jesus Christ, man,” the other strange voice says, sounding both frustrated and amused.

“Excuse me if the question is out of line, but why pursue this line of work if you don’t believe in it?” Dale asks. Albert hangs his coat and drops his keys in the Gorilla-glued dish before making his way toward the voices.

“Watching Bryan freak out is fun and the paycheck is good,” says the tall, lanky man standing with his hands in his pockets. Next to him is a shorter man--shorter than either he or Dale--with dark hair and large bright eyes.

“Payne,” the shorter one says with a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh, and to reach the top shelves if necessary.”

Albert has to snort, drawing attention to himself even if he hadn’t been exactly subtle with his arrival.

“Ah, gentlemen, this is my partner, Albert Rosenfield. He first noted the connection between our intimate relationship and the activity of our… presence.”

“Oh yeah, man, this shit happens all the time. Fucking prudes,” the shorter man says. “I’m Bryan, that’s Payne. We’re sort of-uh-”

“If you say ghostbusters, I’m taking back whatever deposit Coop was stupid enough to give you,” Albert says.

The tall one, Payne, wheezes with laughter. “Nah man, we’re just kind of the anti-ghost squad. I’m immune.”

“Shut up Payne, you are _not_ immune, you’re just a dick.”

“If we could come back to the matter at hand, gentlemen?” Dale says, without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. “What, precisely, do you intend to do?”

“Well, my expertise is in, you know, talking to the ghosts, figuring out what they want.” He pauses, glancing at his partner as if fumbling for an explanation, “Payne makes sure I don’t poop my pants while I do it. And probably antagonize it by asking it to pull out his ribcage and wear it as a hat.”

Albert snorts.

“I thought we agreed ‘no more Buffy references,’” Payne says.

It’s a short conversation after that. Payne and Bryan insist that they should stay the night and he and Dale should leave. They want to check whether feigned sexual activity will have the same effect. 

As they pack a bag and a suit holder, Albert raises a pointed eyebrow.

“I believed professional, or at least experienced help was necessary for our current predicament.”

“At least one of them doesn’t actually believe in ghosts and the other thinks pretending to give a shitty handjob will get this fuck to show himself,” Albert says, almost surprised at how dry it comes out.

******

When they arrive home the next morning, the two ghost hunters are blearily munching on Dale’s muesli. The shorter one has bags under his eyes that could hold Diane’s entire collection of kimonos and the taller one is wearing thick glasses that weren’t there yesterday.

“Gentlemen, any luck?” Dale asks while Albert flicks through the mail.

“Bryan thinks-”

“There’s definitely a ghost and he’s definitely horny as fuck. He didn’t go for the fake handy at _all_ , but that might have been cause this asshole kept making noises like a porn star and talking about guitar callouses.”

“I’m just saying, you’re going to make a girl very happy one of these days. I mean, it’s gotta happen _one day_.”

“Shut up, Payne. Anyway, we’ve gotta go over some of the recordings and stuff, but I think we know what to do.”

“It came to him in a dream,” Payne says, and the derision is so thick, but so fond, that Albert snorts.

“You and Cooper should get together and go bowling,” he says to Bryan. “Alright let’s hear it. And if there’s a dwarf or a giant in it, best let Coop handle it since they’re old friends.”

Both of the ghost hunters look at him askance, but Albert just smirks at Dale until the other man sighs.

“I have often been visited in dreams by entities who have something they wish to impart to me. I will believe you,” he tells Bryan in all seriousness.

“Right,” he says, dragging the word out. “So, basically he’s horny as shit, right? And everytime you guys get it on, he’s just trying to, you know,” he shrugs uncomfortably.

“He’s getting his vicarious ya-yas out,” Payne finishes.

“He give you any indication how he can stop destroying our house when he gets his metaphysical rocks off?” Albert asks.

“Basically, if you all stop having sex for like, I don’t know, 3 months? He’ll go find someone else.”

“He’s mobile?” 

“There was a prostitute on the other side of the complex, but she moved back to Texarkana.”

He sighs deeply and exchanges a glance with Cooper. It’s not exactly a _hardship_. They’ve been celibate for longer before--some longer assignments don’t exactly leave a lot of time for a booty call--but they’re both pretty big fans of sex.

“What about outside of the condo?”

Bryan shrugs, “Should be fine. He’s not attached to the condo or to you, he’s just opportunistic.”

“Thankfully, Bryan hasn’t gotten laid in about 6 years--”

“Dude!”

“--so he shouldn’t be following either of us home.”

“You realize you just told on yourself.”

“Mine is a voluntary celibacy.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Albert, for all that he finds this very amusing, clears his throat. “Alright so moratorium on sex in the condo for at least 3 months. So glad we’re paying you-”

“Oh! It’s on the hou-”

“$200,” Payne cuts off his friend, giving him a light smack to his head. “Dude, we can’t keep giving away free ghostbusting services just because you’re a soft-touch.”

Dale is already filling out a check, which is a good thing because even if this works, Albert can’t be seen financing this sort of malarkey. The boys--he can’t think of them as grown men when one of them is wearing a Stargate t-shirt--gather their things, depositing their bowls in the dishwasher like good little house-guests.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your services. I do believe Albert and I would have found ourselves quite at wit’s end without your input.”

This sounded a bit rich coming from the man who had categorically stated only a day ago that they wouldn’t stop having sex just to appease their supernatural friend.

“No problem, man. And hey! You’ve got my email, I’d love to hear about the dwarf and the giant!”

“You barely believe in Bigfoot!” Payne exclaims. “You’re on board for horny ghosts and dream-giants, but _Bigfoot_ is a stretch?”

“There is no evidence-!”

“Oh my God, he’s a sapien! He-”

“Alright, Alice and Ralph,” they look at Albert in confusion and he has to remind himself that he is, in fact, old. “Much as we’d love to play audience to what is an obviously well-trodden argument, Coop and I need to get down to the business of not getting any. Out.”

They shake hands, Dale promising to email, and Albert gratefully locks the door behind them. Dale, when he looks, is positively morose.

“It’s three months. Maybe one of us can break a leg so we won’t be tempted,” Albert suggests, only slightly facetious.

The next day, Dale comes home with a two month assignment in California and Albert howls.

*****

**12 Years Later**

The brewery boom in the Pacific Northwest has done Twin Peaks a service and though Albert generally prefers scotch or wine, he’s enjoying working his way through the considerable beer list. That Harry has joined him in this pursuit has left Dale with a disapproving frown and a wary eye for camera phones.

“...so Andy is just sitting there in this bright yellow vest and helmet and Hawk says ‘Well, if it’s any consolation, you look like an idiot’.”

Albert barks out a hoarse laugh and slaps the table, shaking their empties and causing Dale to dive to save his own, mostly full beer.

“Well, at least Bigfoot is a sapien,” Albert says.

He realizes his mistake too late. “Dear Albert, have we found the one supernatural being you believe in?” Dale asks, satisfaction in every note of his question.

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“You’ll scoff at giants, dwarves, and libidinous spirits, but you’ll believe in a being with no physical evidence associated with him whatsoever?”

“Dreams are _not_ evidence-”

“Libidinous spirits?” Harry interrupts, much to Albert’s chagrin.

Dale positively _lights up_ and Albert chugs the rest of his beer.

“Harry, it is an absolutely incredible story…”

**Author's Note:**

> Payne and Bryan are in NO WAY based on Shane and Ryan from Buzzfeed Unsolved how dare you accuse me of basing characters on real people just so I can have skeptics and believers interact and be generally snarky and also go watch Buzzfeed Unsolved because it is a RIOT and I could never do them real justice. ;)


End file.
